Did You Ever Think Of Me
by Darley1101
Summary: When a patient requests Jo the last thing she expects is the woman who gave her away...


Title: Did You Ever Think Of Me

Author: Darley1101

Rating: PG (mild use of language)

Pairing/Character(s): Jo Wilson

Premise: When a patient requests her the last person Jo expects to deal with is the mother who left her.

Author's Note: If you know me, you know I am not particularly fond of the actress who plays Jo. Which, in turn, effects my opinion of the character. I wish I could say that I was adult enough not to let that sort of thing sway my opinion but alas I am human. However, I do know what it is like to be abandoned. I also know what it is like to have the parent who left you turn up in your life, wanting to explain themselves and expecting you to just understand. It is because of that experience that I wanted to write this one shot. If you are expecting to find a fluffy bit of nice-ness you are looking in the wrong place. I don't do fluff very well. Humor, yes. Dark and twisty, most definitely. I welcome all constructive reviews. Flames will be extinguished.

The woman had sleek, auburn chin length hair with one slender streak of silver at the front and the smoothest, whitest skin Dr. Jo Wilson had ever seen. She wasn't a beautiful woman, but her face was interesting enough to make people take notice. Her chart said she'd come in complaining of chest pain. An E.K.G. had shown nothing irregular. To be safe, an ultrasound of the heart had been done. Nothing. The conclusion was Mrs. Alicia Wilson had suffered from an anxiety attack. It wasn't uncommon for anxiety attacks to mimic heart attacks; especially women. Since the woman's chart listed her as a widow, Jo figured the husband hadn't been gone long and the stress of learning to live on her own was getting to the woman. A low dose of Zanax, maybe even a round of grief share, would help. Clutching the chart to her chest, Jo pasted a smile on her face. There was something about the woman that had set her on edge from the start. Maybe it was having the woman specifically request her. She was an intern. A nobody in the medical field. A patient request for an intern was just strange. Even stranger was the way the woman kept staring at her, an odd sort of longing on her face. It was creepy. She really hoped her patient wasn't a stalker of some sort. That would be Jo's luck. She seemed to attract that sort of trouble. _Don't be so dramatic_, she silently scolded herself as she moved to stand near the counter/sink combo that was adjacent to the examination table where her patient sat, hands meekly folded on her lap. It wasn't fair to say she attracted that sort of trouble. She wasn't going to allow herself to have that sort of mindset. A less than stellar childhood and several failed adult relationships didn't mean she was a magnet for crazy. It wasn't her fault Jason Stark had turned out to be a jerk who liked to use people's fears to control them. She wasn't ready to call him abusive just yet, although she knew that was exactly what their relationship had been. Abusive. Mostly on his part, but she wasn't going to deny her role in it. She'd been just as abusive at times. Exploding, saying things she didn't really mean, shoving him. _Focus, Jo. You need to let it go and focus on your patient._ Stretching her mouth into an even brighter smile than the one she had forced only moments ago, Jo took a deep breath. "Well. I have good news! You didn't have a heart attack." She waited, her smile wobbling as the woman stared at her, blue eyes wistful. Jo felt her smile slipping. There really was something not right with the woman! Most patients would be excited to hear they hadn't had a heart attack. Not Mrs. Alicia Wilson. Oh no. She just continued with her creepy stare. "I believe what you experienced was an anxiety attack. I'm going to prescribe some Zantax. If you like, I can also refer you to someone who can help you resolve whatever is causing your anxiety."

"You could help," her patient murmured, a sad little smile tipping the corners of her rubber band mouth.

Closing her eyes, Jo tried to remember what she had been taught about dealing with crazy patients. Alex had covered it the first day. It was right there. Something simple. Call down psych! That was it. If a patient exhibited signs of mental instability they were to call down for a psych consult right away. "Maybe," she demurred, remembering the second thing Alex had taught them about handling unstable patients. Remain calm and try not to set them off. "I'm going to step into the hall for a moment. I promise I'll be right back." She turned to reach for the knob.

"I'm not crazy. You don't have to call in the shrink. I don't need the Zanax either. I have a bottle of it at home. I hate taking the stuff. It makes me feel exhausted and foggy. Can't get a thing done when I take it." The paper lining on top of the examination table crinkled as the patient moved. Jo stiffened, cautiously looking over her shoulder. Her body relaxed when she realized the woman had only made herself more comfortable, not stood up. Jo didn't know what she would do if the woman came at her. They were about the same height but the woman was at least thirty pounds heavier. "I shouldn't have come here, but I wanted to see you. I needed to see you."

Stalker, she thought with alarm. She had a stalker. A crazy, fifty-two year old female stalker. Oh geez. What had she ever done to deserve this? "I'm going to step into the hall," she repeated, her fingers refusing to cooperate and turn the knob. The paper crinkled again. This time the woman had stood. Jo felt her heart starting to pound. _Please don't hurt me,_ she silently begged. Several of her medical school classmates had thought she was insane for wanting to work at Grey-Sloan Memorial. They thought they place was jinxed. Doctors died when they went to work there, one had warned her. She had laughed it off. It wasn't like the hospital had asked for a crazy man to start shooting the place up. It wasn't until after she started working there that she learned the hospital had also been the place of a bombing. One doctor, a George O'Malley, had been hit by a bus and died in an exam room he had once seen patients in. There was also rumors that Dr. Yang's first fiancé, a Dr. Preston Burke, had been shot in front of the hospital. There was also the plane crash that had killed Dr. Lexie Grey and, ultimately, Dr. Mark Sloan. Rumors had reached her ears that Dr. Meredith Grey and Alex's ex-wife Dr. Isobel Stevens, had both seen the ghost of a dead patient. She wasn't sure she believed the last part, but the rest had all made news. What if this woman wanted to make the news and had thought Grey-Memorial was a prime location to do so? _Stop it! Just stop it! You're letting your imagination run away from you. Just walk into the hall and call down psych. Jesus, Jo, it is as simple as that. _

"Please don't. I promise I'm not crazy. I know that's what you're probably thinking right now." Jo shook her head. "It's all over your face, sweetie." Mrs. Alicia Wilson moved closer. Jos pressed herself flat against the door, fumbling with the knob. What was wrong with her hands? Why couldn't she get them to work properly? She'd performed intricate surgeries on preemies, but she couldn't open a door? "I should explain myself." Jo shook her head again. She didn't want to hear the crazy explanation this woman was about to concoct. She wanted to get the hell out of that room and find Alex or Arizona. One of them would help her laugh this off. "My husband and I got married right out of high school. My parents wanted me to wait. He was joining the Navy though and I wanted to go with him. We were married seven years before I got pregnant. He was so excited about that baby. He was sure it was girl, but I thought it was a boy."

"Why are you telling me this?" Turning around, Jo stared at the woman, her face wrinkled in confusion. Maybe the woman just wanted someone to talk to. That would make sense. She had said she married young. Just out of high school. If her husband had just recently passed away it had to be stressful living alone. Maybe their child didn't live close by. Or maybe the baby hadn't lived. Things like that happened all the time.

"Because I want you to understand," the woman said softly, her blue-gray eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Jo felt her pulse start to accelerate. It took every ounce of her inner strength not to let her mind wander into dangerous territory. Something even more dangerous than a crazy patient intent on killing her. "I loved my husband. I loved him more than I have ever loved anyone in my entire life. He was my everything. And when they knocked on my door...when they told me he was dead...something inside me died to. I was seven months pregnant at the time. I didn't want to take care of myself. My neighbor had to make me eat and go to my doctor appointments. My parents wanted me to come back home but I couldn't. Seattle was where my home with Joey was. I couldn't leave it. I should have. I should have listened to my mother and gone home. Maybe then..." she let out a sigh, closing her eyes. Jo felt her lips start to tremble. Or maybe it was her whole body trembling. "Maybe then I wouldn't have given away the most important part of my husband. Our daughter."

"I need to leave," Jo choked. She couldn't stand here listening to this woman. She couldn't. If she didn't listen, then she didn't have to deal with what she thought the woman was trying to tell her.

"I understand. I just wanted to see you."

Jo nodded, a lump forming in her throat. Spinning on the ball of her foot, she grappled with the door handle. This time her fingers cooperated. She let out a gasp as she stumbled into the hall. Raising her chin, she walked towards the nurses desk. Her fingers still shook as she set the chart on the high counter surrounding the little hub. Her focus remained on the discharge papers before her. "I need you to discharge Mrs. Wilson in 302." She was amazed at how calm her voice sounded as she handed the chart off to the discharge nurse. Squaring her shoulders she picked up her next chart. She didn't have time to think about the woman who might or might not be her mother. The past was in the past. Jo figured it was better if stayed there.


End file.
